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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26017486">Goat Song</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzedecimal/pseuds/Katzedecimal'>Katzedecimal</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Disco, Earworm, Gen, Major Character Afterlife</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:46:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,036</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26017486</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzedecimal/pseuds/Katzedecimal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Warlock didn’t know how long he’d been here.  He <i>sort</i> of expected something like it though.  Sort of.  He knew there was a pretty good chance he’d end up in Hell when he died, so he wasn’t too surprised when he had.  He also wasn’t too surprised to be left in an empty room while they “sorted things out.”  It was very small and cramped, barely even a closet, with no features, nothing on the walls -  nothing.  It was boring. </p>
<p>Fortunately, when he was wee, he’d had a Nanny who had taught him how to deal with boredom.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>122</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Goat Song</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeniG/gifts">PeniG</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>”Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert youuuu”</i>
</p>
<p>Warlock didn’t know how long he’d been here.  He <i>sort</i> of expected something like it though.  Sort of.  He knew there was a pretty good chance he’d end up in Hell when he died, so he wasn’t too surprised when he had.  He also wasn’t too surprised to be left in an empty room while they “sorted things out.”  It was very small and cramped, barely even a closet, with no features, nothing on the walls -  nothing.  It was boring.  Warlock rather suspected that that was the point.</p>
<p>Fortunately, when he was wee, he’d had a Nanny who had taught him how to deal with boredom.</p>
<p>
  <i>”Baay-beeee Shark doo doo doo doo doo doo, Baby Shark doo doo doo doo doo doo”</i>
</p>
<p>He never seemed to run out of breath and his mouth never grew dry.   He just sang and sang and sang, endlessly repeating the endlessly repeating songs.  He had no idea how long he’d been singing.  Every now and then he changed songs, just to keep himself amused. </p>
<p>
  <i>”What’s new pussycat? Whoa-wooo-whooa-whoo-whoooa!”</i>
</p>
<p>He didn’t know how long he’d been here.  He’d probably been forgotten.  Hell seemed to be that sort of place, stick you in a closet and forget about you.  An obliette, they were called.  He remembered his Nanny talking about them, once when they’d toured some old castles.  Funny thing was, she talked about them as though she’d been there.</p>
<p>
  <i>”It’s not un-u-su-AL to be loved by anyone…”</i>
</p>
<p>He got up and started to dance a little, reaching back into his fading memories for the steps of a long-forgotten dance.  “<i>Heyyyyy Macarena!</i>”</p>
<p>He was halfway through his - hundredth?  Thousandth? - round of <i>The Hustle</i> when the door opened.   A grey sort of woman face glared at him stonily then bared far too many needle teeth and gestured for him to follow.</p>
<p>Warlock was led through crowded stinking halls into a crowded chamber. “This is him, m’Lord,” said his guide.</p>
<p>The… person… on the other side of the desk leaned across it to scrutinise Warlock closely.  They were dressed like an old-fashioned lord and had a large fly sitting on their head.  “Dagon’s recommended you for a commendation,” they said mildly.</p>
<p>“Quite a surprise,” said apparently-Dagon, “He’s <b>supposed</b> to be one of the damned but he’s turning out to be one of the best bloody tormentors we’ve got!  Anyone we put into the cells next to his, they start screaming and begging before the week’s even out!  His father couldn’t even stand two days of him!”</p>
<p><span class="small">”There’s the story of my life,”</span> Warlock huffed under his breath.</p>
<p>“Interesting,” said the fly person, “And yet you were human yourself.  How is it that you are immune?”</p>
<p>Warlock shrugged, “It’s just something my Nanny taught me when I was small.  She taught me to deal with boredom by, well, by annoying everybody else, really, usually with endlessly repeating songs.  Her favourite was a song about a goat.”</p>
<p>The fly person sat up, “A goat?”</p>
<p>Warlock nodded, “Yes.  It was in some other language but she said it meant something like <i>’The goat went up the hillside, the goat went up the hillside, the goat went up the hillside, and what do you think he saw?’</i>”</p>
<p>There was a screech from across the room and a man surged out of the shadows.  “How do you know that?” he shrieked, hissing spit in Warlock’s face, “You’re <i>human</i>, you weren’t even a hundred years old when you died and showed up here!  You <i>can’t</i> know that song!  <i>How do you know that song?</i>”</p>
<p>Smell is the surest way to memory and not even time in Hell could fade <b>this</b> memory - “Here, don’t I know you?” Warlock said, “Aren’t you the man who smelled like poo?  Yeah, at that Meggido place, what was your name… Professor…”</p>
<p>“Hastur.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that’s it! - Hastur LaVista!  Yeah, I’d know your smell anywhere!  How you doing, you old sod?”</p>
<p>The man turned to the fly person and thrust an accusing finger at Warlock, “This is…!  This is… the child!  The child who didn’t have the dog!”</p>
<p>“I had a tropical fish, once,” Warlock offered.</p>
<p>“Can you describe this ‘Nanny’ of yours?” said Dagon slowly.</p>
<p>“Oh sure,” said Warlock, “She was really tall and thin and she had red hair and was really pale, she never got tan.  She wore black clothes and these little round sunglasses that she wore <i>all the time</i>, even at night…”</p>
<p><b>”Crowley!”</b> Hastur hissed. He appeared to have broken out in frogs.</p>
<p>“She sang the most wicked lullabies, too.  To be honest, I think she might have thought I was the Antichrist…”</p>
<p>“It’s <b>him!</b>  The child that bastard traitor switched with our Master’s unholy Son!”</p>
<p>
  <i>”What did you just call my Nanny?”</i>
</p>
<p><b>”Enough!”</b> Dagon snapped, “Put him down.”  Warlock released his hold on Hastur and let him drop.  </p>
<p>The fly person leaned back, screwing their face up into the most inscrutable expression such that Warlock couldn’t decide if they were trying not to laugh or just really really exasperated.  Probably both.  “I approve your request for commendation, Lord Dagon.  Promote him.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Lord Beelzebub.”  Dagon turned, “Come along now, Demon Warlock.”</p>
<p><i>”What?”</i> Hastur shrieked.  His howls echoed down the crowded hall as Dagon led Warlock away.</p>
<p>“Well done,” Dagon chuckled, “That’ll be entertaining.  Hastur already hates you.  Don’t worry, I won’t let him hurt you <i>too</i> much.”</p>
<p>“He can try,” Warlock sniffed, “So, am I a demon now?  What do I do?”</p>
<p>Dagon smiled wider than any human mouth, showing far too many needle-thin teeth, “Why, the same thing you’ve <i>been</i> doing.”</p>
<p>Warlock nodded, “That tracks.  Only now it’s not my punishment, I’m other people’s punishment?”</p>
<p>Dagon smiled wider yet.  “Yes.”  Then she tipped her head, “You do not seem to be upset by this?”</p>
<p>“Nanny knew I wouldn’t go to Heaven,” Warlock said wistfully, “She said practically no one does anymore.  So I wasn’t surprised when I woke up here.”  Dagon nodded.  Then Warlock straightened his shoulders and smirked, “So she told me, the best I could do was to hatch enough deviltry that they wouldn’t be ashamed of me in Hell!”</p>
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